Solitary Pilot
by Sakaane
Summary: The very last question asked her to describe why she wanted to become a capsuleer and serve the Federation. She paused for several minutes, trying to formulate an appropriate answer. Then she wrote one line: The Serpentis are a blight upon New Eden. M for language and violence in later chapters.
1. Capsule Bound

**Capsule-Bound**

 **18 February YC106  
Verge Vendor Region – Ancbeu Constellation – Scolluzer System**

The warp tunnel collapsed; a stargate loomed into view above Sakaane's ship, dwarfing the battered Griffin-class frigate she'd bought from a salvage yard in Agoze. Abandoned on a battlefield where a capsuleer and Serpentis pirates had recently clashed, the ship was badly damaged and just barely functional. Yet it was all she had been able to afford. A shuttle was beyond her budget and she wouldn't risk taking a commercial passenger transport.

 _Never again._

The burly man who sold the wrecked Griffin to her had been happy to be rid of what he called a "worthless hunk of squiddy metal" for the meager price she offered. He'd shrugged when she'd asked if it would hold together through seven jumps from Intaki.

"Mebbe," he'd drawled, "if yer real lucky an don't meet no pirates." The salvage yard wasn't terribly well-equipped; he'd pulled out a dusty paper map of the area. "You figurin on goin through Ost direct ta high security empire? Bad idea, that. Stac gate there usually camped." He pointed. "Better ta use this gate here."

He'd shrugged again when she protested about the course change adding another jump to the trip. "It's yer life. Either way ya gotta figure some way ta fly this boat first. There ain't no pod innit, an you ain't no pod pilot."

True, but that was the entire purpose of the journey. Becoming a capsuleer had never occurred to her before; she was Intaki, content to remain an artisan singing songs for her modest following, until Serpentis pirates had ruined it all. Now she was determined and had quickly learned from any pilot and mechanic willing to teach her how to rig the former pod ship for manual controls good enough to get by.

 _I will have my revenge._

Her ship vanished into the jump portal and for the eighth time in a row she nearly blacked out. Having only once previously attempted to travel outside of Intaki, the effects of gate travel were still foreign to her and compounded by the stress of knowing the initial route had been along the same lanes attacked by the Serpentis those few months ago.

 _Twisted metal and screams. Acrid smoke and burning flesh._ She was healthy now, but parts of her mind and body still ached from wounds received in the attack.

 _No, don't think about it. That part of your life is over. Look forward._

She'd taken the yardman's advice and added the extra waypoint to the ship's neocom. Jumping into high security space intact and without incident had been a relief. Now, four jumps later, she was nearing the end of her journey.

The frigate hung lifeless on the other side of the gate while she caught her breath, willing the jump sickness to pass. Around her, other ships arrived from Alentene, swiftly appearing on then disappearing from her makeshift overview as they warped away.

Wiping beads of sweat away from her skin, she retook the controls and called up a star chart. It centered on a specific planet, then a moon orbiting it. The hull shook as the frigate warped and suddenly she could smell a hot electrical odor.

 _Just a little farther._

A monitor displayed a planet, Scolluzer VII, growing from a grey smear to an imposing ringed gas giant. Its third moon was a dark disk against the system's blue sun. Finally, the Federal Navy Academy School station orbiting the moon came into view.

"Station control, this is Caldari frigate _Soovari._ Request permission to dock."

When no reply seemed forthcoming, she repeated the hail. Still nothing.

"Is this thing even transmitting?" she muttered, thumping the console for good measure.

Aura suddenly stuttered to life. _"Welcome on—welc—welcom—onb-b-b—"_

Sakaane opened a panel and reached into the console up to her elbow, searching with her fingers for a wire wrapped thickly with electrical tape. A little jiggle and Aura fell silent but the comm system crackled to life, streaming audio from the station into the cabin.

Satisfied, she held her fingers still and stretched with her other hand for the comm's toggle switch. "Station control, this is Caldari frigate _Soovari_ requesting permission to dock, over."

" _We read you,_ Soovari. _Docking request accepted. Do you require assistance? Sensors show your vessel is in pretty bad shape."_

"No, thank you. I won't be flying this ship again."

" _Roger that. Set course for the docking perimeter. Actually, belay that. Let's leave your ship where it is, shall we? A tug will be around shortly to tow you into bay fourteen. Station control out."_

She let go of the wire and sat back, watching as the station slowly filled the monitor as her ship drifted toward it. The tug appeared, approaching the frigate and locking on a tractor beam. A moment later the docking bay swallowed them both.

 _I'm here. I made it._

The dockmaster eyed her with disbelief when she slipped through the ship's airlock, his gaze darting from the frigate's blackened, battle-scarred hull to her wearied appearance. She was pale and her deep green eyes were made all the more black by the dark bags beneath them. Her honey-blonde hair hung limp and wet from perspiration, all signs of mild jump sickness. "Good day, miss. Name's Scotty. You really flew here in that?"

"Apparently."

He took in her cool expression and cleared his throat, glancing down at the datapad shoved into the crook of his arm. "So. How long do you plan to be berthed? We have weekly docking fees for your convenience."

She considered. Most of her funds had been spent on the frigate itself. "I require the bay for only as many days as it takes to sell the ship."

Scotty frowned and shook his head. "Nobody will take it like this. If you aren't going to repair it, the station has a reprocessing plant." At her blank look he patiently explained, "Break the hull down into its component minerals. They'll keep some to cover their costs and you can sell the rest." He fished in the pockets of his overalls, finally producing a business card soiled by a smear of grease. "Here. Station time is nearly 2130 hours but they usually have a night crew. If you hurry you might be able to get them to take it before the day rolls over, and then I'll only have to charge you the tug fee. For now I just need a deposit to hold the bay."

He tapped the datapad and then presented it to her. A figure displayed and what little blood was left in her face drained completely away.

Looking again from her face to the ship and back, the dockmaster noted the young woman had not disembarked with any personal effects. "You want to sign up at the academy? Used everything you had to get here," he guessed.

A small smile pulled the corners of her lips. "Yes. I can cover the deposit." She pressed her thumb to the pad to register the payment. "I just didn't expect it to be…quite that much."

Scotty grinned and clapped her gently on the shoulder to steer her out of the bay into the station proper. "Head over to Reprocessing like I suggested. They'll take care of you and then you'll be set. We can settle up after. Good luck, miss."

It was easy to find Reprocessing using the station's automated directory. When she arrived a few minutes later the intake clerk greeted her with a smile.

"Welcome. Are you the owner of the _Soovari_? Docking called ahead."

A diagram of her ship appeared in the air above the clerk's desk.

"Yes, that's it," Sakaane said. The clerk offered her a seat so she sat down.

The display rotated and highlighted certain features of the hull.

"Let's see what we have here. Griffin-class Caldari hull. No special modifications. Pretty rough shape; one too many battles, eh?"

"I suppose so. I'm not the original owner; I bought it in this condition."

The clerk's eyebrows shot up. "Really? Well, we'll take it anyway. It's a slow night so we can get it in right away if you like and have delivery in a few hours."

"So quickly?"

The clerk smiled a smile of white teeth. "Certainly. It's only a frigate, piece of cake." For a few moments she fed data into the desk console. Finally a chart appeared in the air next to the ship diagram. "This is our quote. Due to the condition of the hull the total yield will be less than normal. It's unfortunate but we estimate about twelve percent is unrecoverable and if you were hoping for any nocxium or zydrine I'm afraid you're out of luck. Output will be just under twenty-one thousand units in all, primarily tritanium and pyrite but also some mexallon. Given you're a new customer, we'll be keeping ten percent of the viable units and you'll receive the balance."

Sakaane made an effort to study the figures, but really they meant nothing to her.

 _Did I make the right choice, leaving Intaki for this station? I don't know anything about the military, or ships, or minerals. Can I really become a capsuleer?_

But if she went home, assuming she could even find a way to get there…the Serpentis would still be lurking between the stars, waiting for their next helpless prey.

 _I won't be that prey anymore._

"This looks good," she said with more confidence than she felt. "Please proceed."

A short while later the minerals had been delivered to a storage hangar set aside by the station for her, and she found herself at a public terminal poring over the local market buy orders. Not certain of the results, she called up buy orders for Griffin hulls to compare with and was relieved when the only results in the entire region offered less than two percent of the value of the minerals. The transactions complete, she returned to the now-empty bay fourteen.

Scotty smiled at Sakaane's approach. "Nice to see you again, miss. Feeling better?"

"A little, thank you. After a good night's rest I think the jump sickness will have passed. Thank you also for referring me to Reprocessing. I'm here to settle the matter of the tug fee."

He winked at her. "I'm glad it worked out in your favor. Here we are." Pulling out his datapad, he brought up her account and keyed in the fee, then passed the pad to her for authorization.

She blinked. "Is this a mistake? You're refunding most of the deposit."

He took the datapad back, frowned at it, and flicked the display with his thumb. "So it seems." Then he winked again and handed the pad back. "Oh well, what's a dockmaster to do?"

Conscious of the fact he was deliberately undercharging her, she asked, "Why are you doing this?"

He shrugged. "It's not easy getting started out here in space, and I figure anyone who has the guts to fly a scrapheap like the one you pulled in with deserves a bit of a break."

She looked down at the pad and slowly placed her thumb on it, then handed it back. "Thank you. _Suprab nahi._ "

Turning, she left the docking bay. It was nearly midnight. A wave of dizziness swept over her.

 _A hot shower, then bed. It's too late and I'm in no condition to apply at the academy now._

The automated directory was happy to point her toward the nearest office where she could rent a room for the night. On the way, she passed the dimly-lit doors to the academy, proudly bearing the insignia of the Federal Navy and the Federation.

 _Here. This is where I will begin anew. And someday…the Serpentis will feel my wrath._


	2. In the Navy

**In the Navy**

 **20 February YC106  
Scolluzer VII – Moon 3 – Federal Navy Academy School**

Sakaane woke just moments before the bedside alarm went off. The unfamiliar darkness confused her; the room was pitch black and devoid of all sound save for the quiet hum of air circulation fans hidden away in the ceiling.

Then the alarm blared its buzzer next to her ear and she remembered. This wasn't home; it was a small windowless cabin, practically a closet, in a space station light-years from where she'd been born. The alarm's light reflected off the polysteel walls, bathing the room in a blood red glow that blinked on and off.

 _Just like the emergency lights on the passenger liner._

Groaning, she banished the thought and reached over to turn the alarm off. It was 0600 station time.

"Lights." The overhead flicked on. Blinking, Sakaane shuffled from the room's narrow bunk to the opposite wall, where a doorway revealed a compact lavatory. She squeezed into the tiny shower stall. The water was on the cold side of lukewarm and she gasped, muttering under her breath about how the accommodations certainly did not live up to the exorbitant fee she'd paid for only one night's stay. But as soon as she'd looked up hotel rates the night before she'd realized such was station life: living in space was not cheap and any amount of real estate came at a premium.

The water did not encourage her to linger and soon enough she was dressed, checked out of the room, and standing before the doors to the academy with her travel bag slung over her shoulder. Excitement tingled through her. Without hesitation she pushed the door open and stepped inside.

This was an intake office only; the actual academy campus was located elsewhere in an area of the station secured against entry except for authorized cadets and other cleared personnel. The lobby was spacious, decorated in muted tones of grey and green, with the Federation's flag dominating one entire wall. Several rows of chairs occupied the otherwise open floor space.

The door chimed to announce her presence to the officer at the counter on the far side of the room, but at the sound, a few dozen pairs of eyes turned her way: despite the early hour a great deal of the chairs were already occupied. All of the eyes belonged to young men about her age, most of them Gallente of one race or another, though she spied some Minmatar in the crowd as well, and all of them registered surprise at seeing her standing there.

She squared her shoulders and stepped forward, moving up the open aisle to the counter where a sergeant had paused in his duties to watch her approach. Some of the young men erupted into whistles and cat-calls as she passed by.

"How about approving my docking request?"

"Wanna polish the boom on my Incursus?"

"You can fly my Thorax anytime, baby!"

Sakaane felt the color rising in her cheeks but was saved from further heckling by the sergeant's sharp order for quiet.

"Yes, miss?" he said brusquely to her. He was tall, black-haired, and if the creases pressed into his uniform were any sharper she supposed he might cut himself on them.

Her mouth was suddenly dry. This was it. "I would like to apply for the capsuleer program."

The sergeant—"Bennett" was stamped on a nameplate affixed to his uniform—opened his mouth to reply but then frowned, instead giving her a once-over. She tried not to flinch; in that one quick glance she felt raked over from head to toe, as if he'd torn away every layer of her being, held it up for inspection, and then tossed it aside.

What did he see? She supposed she looked the least likely person to want into the navy: a young woman in her mid-twenties, thin but not especially athletic, dressed informally in a loose silk blouse and comfortable slacks. Her long honey-blonde hair was tied up in a fashion common with Intaki women, splayed into a large fan-shape behind her head thanks to a special pin that emitted a low-energy field.

The small moustache on Bennett's lip twitched with apparent disapproval and her heart sank. But she raised her chin defiantly and steadily held his gaze, daring him to refuse her.

Finally, Bennett reached for a datapad. "Do you have any prior pilot experience? Any training whatsoever?"

"Nothing formal. A few pilots taught me enough to get a small frigate here, but that was more luck than skill."

The moustache twitched again. "I see. Implants?"

She blinked. "Sorry?"

"Do you have any cranial implants or other augmentations?"

"Oh. No."

The sergeant turned his attention to the datapad to input information, then handed it to her along with a stylus. She glanced down and noticed a box marked "Clean Applicant" was checked off.

"Your application authorizes the Federal Navy Academy to screen you for acceptance, which includes a background check, a complete medical exam, and further testing as required to determine suitability for the capsuleer program," he said. "If you are deemed unacceptable for the program your application nevertheless authorizes us to draft you into regular service provided all other screening criteria is met. Should your background check reveal any criminal activity or outstanding warrants your application will be denied and you will be escorted to the local authority. Any questions? No? Have a seat over there. Return the application to me once completed." He pointed to a chair near the edge of the room, away from the other applicants, some of whom still watched her with interest.

She sat down. _Name, nationality, citizenship, planet of origin, next of kin..._ She hesitated at that last one and decided to skip over it, moving on to the rest of the form first. The questions were quite specific and some had technical terms she wasn't familiar with. The very last question asked her to describe why she wanted to become a capsuleer and serve the Federation. She paused for several minutes, trying to formulate an appropriate answer, and glanced back over the other questions, noting with dismay how often she had checked off "No" or "None" or "Not applicable". She bit her lip.

The blank 'next of kin' field stared up at her. Slowly, she filled in her mother's name and the address at the nursery home. Then, she returned to the final question and wrote one line:

 _The Serpentis are a blight upon New Eden._

Sergeant Bennett glanced dispassionately over the datapad when she handed it back to him. "It will take some hours to run this through and complete the background check," he said automatically. Then her answer to the final question caught his eye and he frowned again. "You sure this is what you want, miss?" he said in a low voice. "Capsuleer training is not easy."

She smiled thinly and nodded. "I understand."

With nowhere else to be, Sakaane decided to wait in the lobby while her application was processed. She sat alone, left to her thoughts and free to observe how the other loitering applicants fared. Some looked nervous and jittery, and she supposed she must look like them. Others lounged about, exuding careless confidence.

As the hours passed, no one was turned away, though she didn't know if they had all been approved to become capsuleers. Bennett barked out names, calling the young men one at a time to the counter. The sergeant handed each a pass and directed him to a doorway where a junior officer waited to escort them away. Finally, only she and a few other latecomers were left.

He called her name, and when she approached him she saw a peculiar glint in his eye. Then he handed her a pass and gestured to the door, where the junior officer had appeared. "You'll be taken to the medical wing for examination and preliminary testing for capsuleer training," Bennett explained. "Welcome to the navy."


	3. First Meeting

**First Meeting**

 **7 January YC109  
Duripant VII – Moon 6 – Federal Navy Academy School**

Deck 17 Bar 'n' Grill had only a small crowd in it when Sakaane walked through the door. The chink of glass and dinnerware punctuated the quiet hum of conversation and a delicious aroma wafted out from the kitchen. Her stomach rumbled as she scanned the room for a likely-looking place to sit down. Having spent the last several weeks nourished only by her capsule, she was eager to treat her palate to some real food.

"My dear, my dear!" The bartender, Njal, waved her over. "It's been some time, _kainta_. Where have you been keeping yourself?"

" _Namas_ , Njal." Sakaane smiled and sat down on a stool opposite him. In his late fifties, Njal was originally from Intaki but had left Placid years ago to make his fortune. His travels led him to Duripant, where he'd opened Deck 17. This had proven a successful endeavor but he often joked his fortune was still waiting for him, even though Sakaane knew he felt tending his bar brought him a kind of richness ISK couldn't provide. He was tall and lightly built, and like many Intaki men his age wore his grey hair long, but tied back at the nape of his neck with a leather thong.

Having been transferred to Duripant after completing a year's worth of preliminary training in Scolluzer, Sakaane had become a regular at Deck 17, enjoying Njal's easy camaraderie and the reminder of home he provided. Now, two years later, she considered him a good friend and knew he thought of her as the daughter he'd never had.

As always the bar was sparkling clean; she could see her reflection in the highly-polished and expensive mahogany surface. A young man sat at one end, several stools away from her, and out of the corner of her eye she saw him watching her intently. Aware that her hairstyle, pinned up and fanned out behind her head, leaving her neck bare, revealed her uppermost implant for all to see, she dismissed his attention as the avid—and sometimes fearful—curiosity she'd been long warned most capsuleers received from the general public.

To Njal she said, "Training exercises again. They've had us weaving through the belts the last few weeks, practicing maneuvers. If I never see another asteroid again it'll be too soon."

The skin around Njal's blue eyes crinkled up as he grinned at her. "Ah, you love it. I'd never seen you so happy as the day they finally let you crawl into that space egg. How long ago was that now, a year? Year and a bit? You're hardly ever outside it these days, at any rate."

She accepted the drink he handed her—a tall glass of carefully layered fruit juices and soda called a Nebulae Fusion—and nodded. "I'll graduate soon, early next year. Then the _real_ fun begins."

"Hmm." He picked up an empty tumbler and wiped it out even though it was already clean. "So, pasta tonight?"

"Yes, please. Thanks."

He excused himself to the kitchen; on slow nights like this one he often did much of the cooking himself.

Suddenly somber, she turned her gaze to the colorful drink fizzing quietly on the bar before her, reaching out to twirl the glass slowly between her fingers.

 _The real fun._ The high-speed maneuvers they'd been running required the squad to disable their collision avoidance systems due to proximity to the asteroids. The Sergeant Major training them was of the opinion no self-respecting capsuleer should rely solely on the ship's systems when navigating: "You got to feel your ship, make it a part of you, like a new skin! Know its capabilities like you know how to breathe. Know its size like you know your body. Use your instruments, but use your God-given senses too! Fleet engagements can turn into close-quarter furballs—so you better be prepared to judge for yourself if you can still fly through a rapidly-closing gap when your neocom is already shot to hell!"

But today during the exercise one of her squadmates had misfired his thrusters during a sharp bank around one of the asteroids and lost control of his Velator. She'd rounded the horizon in time for her camera drones to show his ship exploding in a ball of fire as it smashed into the surface and his pod spinning away from the wreckage only to crack open against a mountainous protrusion of rock.

She'd sped on by, narrowly missing his corpse as it tumbled wildly into the void. Capsule fluid had spewed across her hull and her ship's systems had dutifully simulated a wet _splat_ sound as the impacts registered. She cringed at the memory.

The cadet was fine; he'd woken up in a new clone an instant after his pod breached. And not that all of them hadn't been well-instructed in the dangers of spaceflight and what hard vacuum would do to the human body...but seeing it first-hand was quite different than being told about it. She'd nearly been ill in her pod.

 _That is what the Serpentis saw when they blew the liner. All those people blown into space, their lives snuffed in an instant, bodies flung everywhere. None of those people got to wake up. Serpentis see it every day and still they go on._

Her fingers tightened around the glass and she took a swig.

The young man at the end of the bar was still staring at her. Pointedly ignoring him, Sakaane busied herself by studying the wide variety of colorful liquor bottles displayed on the wall behind the bar while listening with half an ear to the music Njal had piped over the sound system. Deck 17 was a decent-sized establishment but had no room for live entertainment so Njal fancied himself something of a DJ, spending a great deal of his spare time compiling playlists he felt would best suit the lounge.

A new song started up. She stiffened, the music streaming through the speakers all too familiar. Her half-swallowed swig of juice caught in her throat, choking her. She sputtered and coughed.

Just then the young man at the end of the bar sat up straight and snapped his fingers rapidly, a wide grin on his face. "I knew I recognized you!" he said, punctuating each word with further snaps. "I do, I know you! Oh man, what was your name…? My kid sister back home, she used to listen to you—"

Sakaane tried to hack away the juice, annoyed as he continued to snap his fingers and point energetically at her in an effort to jog his memory. Her voice floated through the air, seeming to mock her.

ǂ

At a table nearby, Devan Corvel looked up from his meal, irritated at his thoughts having been interrupted by the commotion at the bar. Couldn't a man have any peace to review reports and eat dinner? He'd been told Deck 17 had a quiet atmosphere.

The woman at the bar had her back to Devan but he could see rigid tension in her posture as she swivelled to the side, revealing an attractive profile. Meanwhile the young man looked like he was just barely old enough to be in the lounge in the first place. This kid, Devan noted with some amusement, also seemed to be at risk of having his fingers snapped clean off, if the woman's glare was anything to judge by. But the kid was either oblivious to this or simply a twit. _Or maybe both_ , Devan thought with a smirk.

"I got it!" the kid exclaimed and jumped off the barstool to rush up to her. "Sakaane Eionell, right? That's one of your songs playing right now."

"Please, leave me alone," she croaked, clearing her throat and leaning away as he came near. Devan frowned and set his datapad to sleep, laying it carefully on the table in front of his plate. The kid was practically standing on top of Sakaane, much too far into her personal space for Devan's taste.

The young man leaned over the bar and rummaged around, chattering away in an excited rush. "My kid sister, she's big into music like yours, always prefers the home-grown stuff rather than the big names. I know she had pictures of you all over the place. She'll die to know I met you! Can I have your—"

Sakaane jumped, startled, as Devan shot his hand in front of her to grab her accoster's wrist just as he swung up to offer a pen and notepad to her.

"The lady said to leave her alone," Devan said quietly, firmly pressing the wrist against its owner's chest. His large hand easily circled the young man's thin forearm.

The kid was forced to take a step back. Gawping at Devan momentarily, he then wriggled free and mumbled a red-faced apology before darting toward the exit.

Sakaane chuckled. "I think you scared him half to death." The laugh caused another round of coughing.

"Idiot kid," Devan said dismissively, waiting as she got her breathing under control. "You okay?"

Apparently embarrassed by his intense gaze—her cheeks flushed a pleasant shade of rose—she swiftly turned away. "Yes." But he saw how she blinked rapidly and was cursing under her breath, and wondered if her watering eyes hadn't been caused solely by the errant mouthful of juice.

He remained standing beside her, feeling awkward while she tried to discreetly sniffle and wipe her face. The song on the sound system was drawing to a close; her voice soared over them in crescendo, raising goose bumps on his arms.

"It's a nice song," he blurted.

Her shoulders bunched up again with tension. Then she sighed heavily and turned back to look at him. "Thanks," she said shyly, though she continued to frown.

Disappointed, Devan found himself wanting to find a suitable compliment that would make those lovely lips curve into a smile. His eyes flicked from them to her green eyes—but when he saw she was gazing back at him, he quickly looked away. He recognized the pain of shattered dreams there, knew it well himself, but had no idea what to say.

That's when he noticed her upper arm. She was wearing fatigues and the patch affixed there indicated she was a navy cadet.

 _Damn_ , he thought, trying to swallow the bitter feeling the patch elicited in him. _Better not._

"Well," he said finally, "I hope you enjoy your evening. Excuse me."

ǂ

Sakaane tried to find something to say as he went back to his table. "Thanks," she said again, and cringed at how lame she sounded.

His gaze lingered on her as he stepped away. Her blush burned hot in her cheeks; his interest had been plain on his face right up to the very last moment when she'd seen a flash of something else: a crushing sense of dreams torn asunder, left blackened and broken on the floor.

She checked a sigh and leaned her elbow on the bar, scrubbing the palm of her hand over her face. _That stupid song_ , she thought angrily. _Why do the lyrics choke my throat when I try to sing? Why do my fingers freeze up when I try to play? Why can't I just get over it?_ Even now, years later, she didn't understand why there was still anything to get over. _If I could then his comment wouldn't have felt like a slap in the face_.

"Ugh," she groaned and picked up her drink, eyeing it critically before taking a cautious sip. She felt like a moron. The kid had just wanted an autograph—and what would have been so wrong with that? Music had been her _life_ and way back when she'd worked tirelessly to promote herself at home—while her rescuer, she imagined, had probably wanted a date. She didn't even know his name! _So much for that._

Sakaane nearly laughed again. Surely his bitterly sad expression wasn't due to her reaction to him. That would be silly. But what was it from then? The not knowing nagged at her.

She studied him. He'd picked up his datapad and was reviewing it intently while forking his meal—probably cold now—into his mouth. He was Gallente and, she thought, quite handsome, dressed in military surplus cargos and a zippered leather jacket, with a chiseled jaw and close-cropped dark blond hair styled up in the front. What looked like a metallic red tattoo adorned each cheek. But something about him was a little odd... Though she judged him to be not more than a few years older than her, somewhere in his mid to late twenties, his face seemed just a little too smooth, too... _fresh_.

When he reached behind his head to scratch an itch, she caught a glimpse down the collar of his jacket. The overhead lights glinted off a small neural socket embedded at the nape of his neck.

 _Ah_ , she thought, smiling a little. _Probably podded recently._ Now she regretted not being more receptive to him. While it was true her squadmates were all male, and some of them attractive enough, it was nevertheless difficult to find a guy whose only interest was not limited to "some good tail", never mind that it was technically against regs. Baseliners, on the other hand, always seemed to go limp and squeamish as soon as their hands ran over the implants in her back.

Just then Njal emerged from the kitchen carrying a steaming plate of pasta in cream sauce. "Here you are," he said. "Careful, it's hot."

"Thanks, Njal. Smells wonderful, as always." Sakaane nodded at the end of the bar where the young man's half-finished drink remained. "You can put that on my tab too."

"Oh? Making friends, are we?"

She smirked. "Something like that." With one last glance at her rescuer, who was still engrossed in the datapad, Sakaane swivelled the stool around and picked up a fork.

ǂ

Devan barely tasted the food as it passed by his lips, more or less chewing and swallowing automatically, then repeating the process. Not that what he'd ordered wasn't good. It was just that his brain was elsewhere.

The datapad displayed a chart listing several drone and ammunition types in rows, with columns of data for each. He cleared his throat and squinted, trying to concentrate on comparing attributes between similar items, looking for what would provide a good balance.

When he caught himself wondering which of these drones and what ammo Sakaane might use, he gave his head a shake and shifted uncomfortably in the chair. He imagined after the little incident she'd have left Deck 17 and would be long gone by now. Even if he wanted to go find her he wouldn't be able to—not without a locator agent anyway, and surely she'd just find that creepy. Still, he refused to look at the bar to confirm. Doing that might prove himself wrong, and if she was still there, just out of his sight, he might be tempted to do something about it.

 _What the hell is wrong with me?_ Devan had no idea. She was Fed Navy. That ship had undocked and warped off into oblivion the moment he saw the patch on her arm. He'd been Fed Navy once, too, and knew better than to go near that organization again. _I don't even know her. A couple of awkward exchanges and staring stupidly at her means nothing. Dammit, she's Fed Navy!_

A button on the pad let him page into the local market orders and he scrolled through them. After several minutes of staring blankly at a sell order without noticing it was located fourteen jumps away, Devan sighed, put the datapad down, and finally let himself look at the bar.

She was still there, cheek leaning on her left hand, picking idly at a plate of noodles with a fork. Her left leg was crossed over her right at the knee and he noticed how her foot twitched slightly in time to lounge's music.

 _Ah, screw it_. Maybe that ship hadn't warped off after all. He wiped his mouth with a napkin and got up again, clearing his throat quietly to announce his presence.

"Hi," he said. When she looked at him she wasn't frowning anymore but otherwise seemed only mildly surprised to find him standing there. Now he was near her again he could faintly smell—not perfume? Her shampoo perhaps. Those green eyes of hers stared right into him and he felt his insides tighten up pleasantly. "I, uh..." After another awkward silence he blurted, "Look. I could say something lame like, 'Either I've been podded or you fell out of heaven' but that would be lame, right? Right. So—" _Yes, go on, keep babbling at her like that idiot kid did. Real smooth Devan, real smooth!_

A smile crept slowly across her lips, matching the blush that spread once more across her cheeks, and he felt himself grinning in return.

"Yes," she said, trying not to laugh, "it would be. But it might work, too." She stuck out her hand. "Sakaane Eionell."

Her fingers, when they wrapped around his, were warm and soft—no calluses. "Devan Corvel," he said, and then gestured to his table. "Would you care to join me?" When she nodded her assent he reached out to carry her plate for her.

They sat down. His eyes kept straying to the patch on her shoulder. "So… Fed Navy? Don't see many women enlisting."

"So I've noticed." She shrugged. "It's a means to an end."

"Why would you enlist when you obviously have other talents?"

Sakaane chewed slowly and then dropped her gaze to her plate. "Why does anyone do anything?" she said evasively. "I have my reasons." The pasta got pushed around.

He waited until she glanced up to meet his expectant stare. She stared back, still chewing, and then swallowed. "It was a long time ago. Suffice it to say: Pirates and death. I lost...almost everything. Too much. So I enlisted. It was the only way I could get back at the Serpentis and make a difference. I'd gladly go back to my music if I could. But every time I try…it's like there's a crushing weight on my chest, and nothing... _nothing_ comes out." She shook her head sharply. "I don't like to talk about it much." Another awkward silence followed. "What about you?"

Devan was frowning. "I'm not with the navy anymore, haven't been for a number of years. I work for a private firm headed up by a friend of mine. Golden Phoenix Inc. Much more lucrative and engaging than being the Federation's gopher."

"Why do you say that?"

He considered for a moment and then leaned forward, putting down his fork so both hands were free. "Let me put it this way. Even if I don't know the details, I get why you're doing what you're doing. I've run into my own fair share of Serpentis in my day. But honestly, you're going about it the wrong way. You realize you aren't going to have a lot of freedom, right? You're going to have to follow orders. The Federation will send you to the ass end of space to patrol trade lanes, babysit some diplomat's kid, or pick up enough cigarettes for every cadet for the next four years. Most of the time they'll send you out to kill Caldari. And sometimes…sometimes they'll order you to do something you'll have to live with, long after they've quietly filed it away."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Sounds like you speak from experience on that."

"I do. It's why I'm not in the navy anymore. I got tired of doing their dirty work, equipped only with their lousy intel." He punched up some records on the datapad and handed it to her. "Back then I couldn't even save up for a cruiser because I kept getting blown to smithereens."

He watched the blood drain from her face. The pad displayed a long list of frigate losses and their associated ISK values. "Because of what happened…my mother requires nursing care," she admitted quietly. "It's expensive, but I haven't needed much money for myself. I send nearly all of my cadet allowance home to provide for her."

"After you graduate you'll only be paid a pittance for what your skills are actually worth, and you'll be responsible for acquiring all your own equipment. It will be tough to do both," Devan said gently, taking the pad back. This time he brought up his wallet balance, and handed the pad over again. "Imagine the kind of care you could provide for her."

While she stared in disbelief at the number, he went on. "The final straw for me came when they asked me to hunt down one of their deep cover agents. The guy'd been blacklisted for one reason or another and in retaliation was threatening to release information to the DED about things the navy had been up to." He leaned back in his chair and glared at his nearly empty plate. "They didn't ask me to bring him in. They just wanted him dead. He wasn't a capsuleer, you see, so spacing him was permanent."

"Did you do it?"

He nodded, slowly. "Had to. _Orders._ They don't exactly appreciate it when you say no. But not long after that I resigned my commission. It hadn't been the first time they'd asked me to do something like that for them, and I knew then it would never be the last. And think about it... What exactly was it this guy knew that was such a threat? _What else goes on out there that we never hear about?"_

"I have to finish what I've started," she protested. "If I don't graduate I'll never get CONCORD clearance as a capsuleer. And...the situation at home, in Intaki... I'd always imagined I'd request to be posted in Placid, so I could patrol the pocket."

"I'm not saying that won't happen. Maybe the navy has changed in the years since I left, I don't know." He tried to backpedal, aware he'd made her uncomfortable. "Hundreds of thousands of other pilots make a career out of the navy, so it must work for them. My experience was different, is all."

She continued to frown at the datapad and then eventually handed it back.

"What is Intaki like?" Devan asked, wanting to steer the conversation back to more pleasant topics. "I've never been there."

Sakaane smiled and nodded to a display spanning one wall of the restaurant. On it was the curving horizon of a planet, deeply blue-green against a red nebula. "Intaki Prime, my homeworld. It's beautiful. Tropical, with majestic forests and so much life. I spent a great deal of my childhood traipsing through the mountains with my father. Where are you from?"

"Mining colony in the middle of nowhere. Home is where my hangar is, really." He grinned.

She laughed and relaxed. They chatted until their meals had finished and Njal whisked their empty plates away. But then, over Sakaane's shoulder, Devan spied his associate, Eric Nevera, waiting silently just inside the entrance to Deck 17. Their eyes met and Eric made a slight motion with his head.

Devan smiled apologetically at Sakaane. "I'm afraid I'm needed elsewhere. But... I'd like to see you again. I'll be in system for another few days."

Sakaane reached for his pad again. "I'd like that." She keyed in her contact details and then bid him good night.

Njal came by again to replace her empty glass with another Nebulae Fusion. "Now I _know_ you've been making friends," he teased.

She smiled and glanced over her shoulder to watch Devan leave. His earlier statements about the navy remained an uncomfortable jumble in the back of her mind. "Maybe. We'll see."


	4. Stolen Arms

**Stolen Arms**

 **28 July YC110  
Luminaire VII (Caldari Prime) – Moon 6 – Federation Navy Assembly Plant**

The comm link was open; her fleet commander was talking.

" _Good job today. The Serpentis are down fourteen to our none. You all know the drill: report for debriefing after docking and disconnection."_

Sakaane stretched in her pod while she waited for her ship, a Vexor-class cruiser affectionately named _Happy Face of Death_ in honor of the arrangement of its forward-facing viewports, to be towed into her hangar behind those of her squadmates. Their missions had ended the same way, day in and day out, since she'd graduated that past March and she suspected more than a few of her squadmates were able to do 'the drill' in their sleep.

 _Graduation._ The word passed through her mind like a sigh. Four years of study, of sweat and late nights, little sleep, of being hooked up to machines and suffering endless medical tests. Four years of struggling to maintain some sort of life outside the academy, of holding onto memories and motivations. Four years of being terrified she would fail, end up mindlocked or worse, while watching it happen to other classmates. Four years of worrying that everything would turn out to be for nothing and she would have to go back to Intaki to an empty house and a ruined life. Sakaane took a shuddering breath. No, she'd made it. She'd pushed through, all so she could call herself a capsuleer.

But. The ceremony had been stiff, boring, and replete with words like "honor", "duty", and "glory for the Federation". A sour taste bit at the back of her throat as she recalled Devan's oft-repeated talks about how so many capsuleers left the navy after graduation. That day, when she and her classmates had finally proven themselves to be better than the best, the navy had focused more on itself rather than celebrating the achievements of their too-small class of graduates. There'd been palpable desire to retain as many of her class as possible within the navy's ranks. In retrospect their desperation seemed prescient.

Sakaane shifted restlessly in her pod fluid. Despite the Malkalen disaster and all of Tibus Heth's insanity that had followed, Sakaane still couldn't blame those of her classmates who had already left in search of more glorious fortunes. If she could have yawned she would have, but the air mask covering her mouth and nose only permitted a deep sigh. Know the drill indeed. Sure, she had been fighting Serpentis today and that contributed to her goals, but the way the navy rubberstamped the missions and handled them as if the squad was nothing more than a cog in an assembly line made for a boring op. There was no guarantee she'd get to fight them again tomorrow. The better assignments always went to more experienced pilots first, and for the last few months most everyone was usually sent out to fight against the State regardless of seniority.

" _Eionell,"_ the FC said, catching her attention. _"Following your debrief, report to my office."_

That was new. She pushed her musings away and flashed her acknowledgment to the channel, following protocol which mandated that only the FC and the designated scout—of which she was neither—were permitted to speak on comms.

Once docked, dressed, and debriefed, Sakaane made her way to his office. "Commander," she said, knocking lightly on the door jamb. "You asked to see me?"

"Yes. Come in. Good run out there today?"

"Yes sir, I think so."

"You've settled into your combat role well." He glanced out the window to the curve of the planet's horizon. Although it wasn't visible against the black, she knew he was looking for the State Leviathan. "Good thing."

"Thank you, sir."

She watched him manipulate the controls on his desk. Commander Halerit was a career military man, happy to take recent capsuleer graduates under his wing and change them from green academy plebs into seasoned pilots with expert skills. He enjoyed his job to the point of near obsession. If Halerit wasn't in his office then he was in his capsule, drilling those under his command and pushing them to be ready. If he wasn't in his pod suit, he was in uniform, and often sported dark aviator glasses. "In this climate," he frequently said to them, "you can't be caught with your pants down. The Caldari are out there."

He brought up her personnel file. "I see you've requested a few days of leave to go to Bereye. You seem to travel there often."

The barest ghost of a smile pulled at her lips. "Yes sir. Personal reasons."

He nodded absently. Halerit had little interest in or patience for his pilots' personal lives beyond grudgingly admitting they were entitled to one when not on duty. "You understand leave approvals are all but impossible to get right now? We want to have all personnel active and available at a moment's notice to handle the State's shenanigans."

Her heart sank. "I understand, sir."

He carried on. "Something's come up in Mies that I'd like you to handle. If you complete the assignment, I'll see your leave request is granted." He sat back in his chair. "We don't normally operate this way with agents but in this case we're making an exception. Depart as soon as you're ready. Travel to the Federal Administration station at planet five, moon seventeen."

Heart lifting, Sakaane saluted, then hurried to her quarters.

ǂ

 **Mies V – Moon 17 – Federal Administration Information Center**

About an hour later her ship slid into a berth at the agent's station. He replied almost immediately to her request to see him. "I've been expecting you," he said. "Please come to my office right away."

Ophaeghe Aufer was a nervous little man with drooping brown dreadlocks. His huge office dwarfed him; the walls were covered almost entirely by holoscreens, all of them active and crowded with feeds of information. Sakaane glanced at them briefly, noting each seemed to be tracking a different capsuleer, monitoring each for a particular activity.

"My clients," Aufer said, jerking upright out of his chair as she stepped into the room. "Too much effort to track them all manually." His eyes flitted over her, blinking when the traditional Intaki headdress covering her forehead caught and reflected the orange light of the holodisplays. He glanced down; she watched him pause for a significant amount of time to stare at the pistol holstered in plain view at her hip. Finally he looked back to her impassive face. "Halerit sent you for that special job, did he? Good, good. Won't you sit down? Would you like, um, some tea or something?"

She declined politely and remained standing.

"Right." The man was sweating and wiped his palms first on each other, then on the waist of his vest. "Right. Let's see here." He rummaged through files, calling up window after window on the nearest display. Suddenly he blurted, "How are things at home?"

"Pardon me?"

Aufer jerked his head in her general direction. "Intaki. Your headdress and hair gave you away. I haven't been home for...a long time."

"Neither have I."

"Oh." He bit his lip and continued to rummage. "All right. Here we are." He sank into his chair and swiveled to face her, wiping his brow. "So. This is... Actually, it's pretty embarrassing." His voice dropped so that Sakaane had to step closer to the desk to hear him. "Somebody broke into my brother's home yesterday and stole his entire gun collection."

Sakaane raised an eyebrow. "That's unfortunate. I trust the authorities are investigating the theft."

Aufer's eyes widened and he shook his head emphatically. "Oh no! No. It hasn't been reported. He'll get into heaps of trouble with his superiors if they find out!"

A cold sense of disapproval seeped into Sakaane's gut. "Was the thief a capsuleer? A pirate? Am I to pursue and destroy?"

"No, nothing so drastic. It really doesn't matter who the thief was!" Aufer kept shaking his head. "I want you to help my brother make the problem go away."

"I see."

A star chart appeared in the air between them with a particular system highlighted. "Fly over to Wysalan Eight...the FedMart Storage station at moon one. Drop off a new set of weapons for him—they'll be waiting for you to pick up in your hangar." He shifted nervously in the chair and stared up at her through the holographic display. His voice cracked when he spoke. "I've modified the ID codes on the guns. Nobody will suspect a thing!"

Sakaane crossed her arms. "You want me to help you cover up a theft just to save your brother some heat? You do realize this is just as illegal as the theft itself? Does Commander Halerit know this is what you wanted done?"

At once his face crumpled up. "I was promised unconditional assistance from the navy! I know you have orders, miss!"

Having been about to argue further, Sakaane snapped her mouth shut.

" _Did you do it?"_

 _Devan nodded, slowly. "Had to._ _Orders._ _They don't exactly appreciate it when you say no."_

A chill crept over her skin at the memory. After a moment she nodded.

Aufer wiped his hands again. "That's what I thought. Now—" He turned back to his console and typed rapidly. "There. The weapons will be delivered to your hangar, and I've uploaded a bookmark for you to your neocom." He glanced up; his tongue flicked nervously over his lips. "Go on, then."

ǂ

"This stinks, Devan. I don't like it."

" _I don't blame you."_ She heard his voice clearly inside her head, relayed from the comm unit in her capsule.

"I can't believe Halerit would send me out here to do this garbage! Since when is the navy at the beck and call of some lowlife agent to do his dirty work? If it was a legitimate theft, what's the problem? But he was way too nervous for this to be anything but a sneak job."

She could imagine Devan biting his tongue to keep from making any number of disparaging comments about the navy's antics, all of which they'd argued about before. Instead he said, _"What are you going to do?"_

"I haven't decided yet. Aufer was right: I have orders. And Halerit won't get my leave approved unless I do this."

" _Gee. That doesn't sound like a bribe at all."_

She didn't answer. Having input the security code to the quarters adjacent to her hangar, Sakaane stepped in and called up the manifest to check Aufer had sent the replacement weapons he wanted delivered. Her jaw hung open as she read the display.

" _Sak? You still there?"_

"Fifty-four hundred!" she blurted.

" _What?"_

"There are _nine large crates_ in my hangar. They're all labeled 'small arms'!" Sakaane had the computer recalculate the total volume. The number blinked and remained the same. "Nine crates," she repeated, "totaling fifty-four hundred meters cubed in cargo space. I don't know how to fly anything that can haul this!"

" _There you go then. Tell Halerit you can't do the job because you don't have the skills. He can't fault you for that, unless he expects you to sit around while the skills compile."_

"Who in their right mind considers _nine_ crates of guns a 'private collection'?" She stared a moment longer at the display before copying the information onto her personal datapad. "I need to talk to Halerit. This is ridiculous. Hold on a bit, would you?" Setting the channel with Devan to standby, she immediately opened another one to her home station in Luminaire, requesting direct connection to her commanding officer.

He took his time picking up the call. _"Yes, Eionell, what is it?"_

Sakaane briefly explained and transmitted the data to him. "Something is wrong," she added. "The agent claimed it's a private collection but there are enough guns here to equip an army. This job is dirty, sir. The agent is trying to pull something and is hoping I won't care enough to see through it."

He was silent a while. _"I see."_

"I have possession of the weapons but lack the skills to fly something big enough to move them. Is there a local navy rep I should contact who can handle this further? Shall I contact the DED?"

" _You are to deliver the cargo as requested by the agent."_

"Er—what? Sir? No, sir. Don't you think we should investig—"

" _Ensign!"_ His voice was sharp. _"Is your commlink malfunctioning?"_

"Sir, I—"

" _Think carefully before you answer,"_ Commander Halerit said, his tone steely. _"It's not just your leave request on the line here. If you disobey my direct order you will be brought up on charges of insubordination. You want to risk a court-martial this soon into your career?"_

She fell silent, too stunned to answer.

He must have taken her silence as acquiescence. _"Carry out your orders. I look forward to receiving Aufer's favorable report on your assignment, Ensign."_

Sakaane found her voice. "But I can't move the cargo myself."

" _I don't care how you do it. Just get it done."_ He closed the channel.

She sat in silence on the couch after that, contemplating the datapad's display of Aufer's request, turning it all over in her head, and trying to calm the sick churning in her stomach. _What to do?_

Another sigh passed through her. Only one choice.

"Devan."

" _I'm here."_

"Can you meet me, say, in half an hour? Bring something big enough for this."

He was incredulous. _"You're going to do the job?"_

"I have orders. I'll be court-martialed if I disobey them."

" _They can't make you carry out orders that are unethical or illegal! That's the right of any solider or officer. If they court-martial you for following your conscience they'll be breaking so many of their own standards it's not even funny!"_

"I know. Will you please meet me here?"

His exasperated sigh transmitted over the channel. _"Yes, all right. See you soon."_

Sakaane tossed the datapad onto the coffee table and then accessed the region's star charts, flipping through a list of nearby systems until she found what she wanted. Satisfied, she added a bookmark to her neocom.

When Devan arrived she was waiting for him in her Vexor, her crew briefed and on standby. As soon as he was fully docked she initiated the cargo transfer to him.

" _What station in Wysalan did you say these are to be delivered to?"_ he asked when they finally undocked, his voice flat.

"Doesn't matter. We aren't going there." She called up her bookmarks and set a destination. "Align to Bereye gate."

" _Where are we going?"_

As their ships entered warp together she wondered if her smile carried over the comm channel. "We're going to make sure I get a court-martial."

ǂ

 **Everyshore Region – Giatole Constellation – Elarel System**

 _"You know we're in low-security space, right? No CONCORD."_

"Mhmm. I saw the warning before we jumped from Bille." Her heart rate picked up; she hadn't been on her own in lowsec since her flight from Intaki in the wrecked Griffin. _How long ago was that? Four years. It feels like a lifetime ago._ "Let's not linger." She picked an asteroid belt at random and warped them both to it.

 _"You'll get flagged to TGPI"_ Devan said, sounding relieved as he caught on.

"Are you hiding a set of turrets on that Iteron somewhere?" she teased.

" _Well...no. But you know Eric has such an itchy trigger finger and he is kind of a cloaker freak. He could be watching us right now!"_

"I'm going to tell him you called him a freak."

He laughed, but then grew serious as the asteroid belt loomed into view and they re-entered normal space. _"Are you sure you want to do this?"_

"Yes. Halerit must be in on it. He has a reputation for being by the book on everything else, so for him to push me on this when it's so clearly a dirty job... He must know what's really going on."

" _For all you know these weapons are destined for some ground assault force planning to infiltrate the State, or take back Luminaire Seven."_

"That doesn't explain why the navy isn't moving supplies through normal channels. They have other, legit ways to do their cloak and dagger crap. If this was legit they wouldn't be asking me to do it. If they trusted me to do it they wouldn't lie to me about it, or set me up to take the fall if something goes sideways. Pop it."

A moment later a cargo container appeared next to Devan's ship. She set her camera drones on it and watched as it turned slowly end over end.

"If Halerit won't allow me to refuse the order, then all I can do is force him to bring me up on charges. That'll get this out in the open."

" _So long as you're sure."_

She targeted the can. "I'm sure."

ǂ

 **Mies V – Moon 17 – Federal Administration Information Center**

Aufer's face had gone a mottled purple-red. "What do you mean, ' _the crates were destroyed'_?!"

Sakaane shrugged and spread her hands helplessly, adopting a dismayed expression. "System-wide malfunction, I'm afraid. Somehow the cargo was jettisoned and while I was trying to get it scooped back my IFF protocols scrambled. Suddenly I was presented with a Strain Annihilator Alvum with active lock. As it appeared I was being aggressed, I initiated fire only to find the opponent to be a rapidly expanding cloud of dust after just one volley. It was then I realized what had happened."

His mouth opened and closed several times. Gone was the nervous fellow she'd met earlier; Ophaeghe Aufer was straight-backed, hands resting lightly on the desk before him with fingers laced together, eyes glowering at her. No longer sweating either, he seemed to dominate the room from his seat in the plush office chair, rather than the reverse.

She stood her ground, gazing calmly at him. _Go on, call me a liar._

"I would hate to believe," he said slowly, "that our fair Federation could produce such shoddy equipment for our pilots to defend us with. What a strange coincidence to have that many issues at one time. What ship did you say you were transporting my cargo in?"

"I don't believe I did say."

His hands balled into fists and he stood up. Sakaane shifted her weight and casually rested the palm of her right hand on the handgrip of her sidearm.

Aufer eyed the weapon but remained standing behind his desk. "I'm very disappointed with this result. You've earned a black mark with Federal Admin, young lady. You'll not find work with us again anytime soon!"

"Is that so?"

His face darkened even more and she expected he would shout at her. "The navy promised me they would send their best, and this is what I get? Rest assured your superiors will hear of this!"

Sakaane nodded and smiled at him. "I look forward to that. _Suprab nahi,_ Mr. Aufer." Then she turned on her heel and walked out.

ǂ

 **Luminaire VII (Caldari Prime) – Moon 6 – Federation Navy Assembly Plant**

Sakaane took her time disconnecting. _Happy Face of Death_ floated quietly in its berth; for the first time, all her crew had long since disembarked before she summoned the pod gantry to extract her. She'd let them know chances were good they would shortly be unemployed, then paid out their contracts. Most of them, she figured, were probably relieved to be getting off "the egger's" ship.

Not for the first time she thought about her original crew, lost in Tierijev just a month prior when her current Vexor's namesake had been destroyed. _At least this crew won't end up like that one..._

The HUD registered all green and she felt the slight jolt that meant the capsule was now connected to the station. But before sending the necessary commands she carefully composed her mission report, outlining in detail everything she had done and why, including her deception to the agent, and submitted it. Then she waited for the capsule to crack open; the containment fluid drained away with a _woosh_ , leaving her wet and shivering on the deck.

She showered, dressed, and took care to put her hair up in the traditional Intaki fanned style. Her headdress was spotless but she polished it anyway before donning it. She examined her uniform carefully, flicking away invisible bits of fluff.

Finally, there could be no more delay.

 _Time to face the music._

She passed other officers going about their business as she made her way to Commander Halerit's office. If they knew her they exchanged greetings; otherwise nothing seemed amiss. But now she looked at everything just a bit differently, and wondered, _What are they really up to?_

The hall to her commander's office was empty. She approached his door, the cold grip of anxiety tight around her chest, only to find the nameplate blank and the lights within dark. The door opened when she pressed the chime, revealing nothing more than an empty desk and chair. Everything was gone.

"Something you need, Ensign?"

She jumped at the voice, spinning around and coming face to face with someone she didn't know. But the bars on his uniform indicated he was a colonel, so she snapped to attention and saluted.

"Just looking for Commander Halerit, sir."

The colonel pulled out his own datapad and flicked through it. "Halerit. Your CO? Seems he's been reassigned. Replacement should transfer in tomorrow at 0800. You'll receive orders then."

She stared, dumbfounded. "Uh. Thank you, sir."

He started to walk away.

"Wait! Sir?" She hurried to catch up. "Sorry to bother you sir."

He stopped and looked expectantly at her.

"I submitted a report tonight about a mission Commander Halerit sent me on. The circumstances were...dubious. I had wanted to request an inquiry..."

"Hmm." He flicked expertly through his datapad again, then examined the nameplate on her uniform, and frowned down at the display. "There is no report submitted from you with today's datestamp. You're sure you filed it properly?"

"Yes, sir. No different than any other report."

"Well, there's nothing here. Send a request down to IT. Nothing to be done without your report filed. Carry on."

He left her standing in the hallway. After he'd gone, she pulled out her datapad and checked for her report.

The colonel was right: the logs showed nothing.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** _Stolen Arms_ is one of several favorite pieces I've written so far about Sakaane's journey. It's based on an in-game mission of the same name. The agent, Ophaeghe Aufer, is one I tended to work for quite frequently in Mies from 2008-2010 before I decided to dive into roleplay, so it was fun to go back and decide how I wanted integrate some of my actual game experiences into Sakaane's past.

Thank you for reading! More to come. :D


	5. Resignation

**Resignation**

 **2 September YC110  
Duripant VII – Moon 6 – Federal Navy Academy School**

Sakaane sat on her favorite barstool in _Deck 17_ and scrolled through the _Scope_ newsfeed in her datapad. A story caught her eye:

 _Recovering from the shock of defeat in Luminaire, sizeable sections of the Gallente populace have begun to call for integrity and accountability amongst Federation Navy leadership, a group they hold chiefly responsible for the disastrous military blunders of June 10._

 _Just one of many recent events representing a growing crisis of faith in their own security forces, yesterday's "Citizen's Emergency Summit" held in Villore saw more than a hundred prominent Federation luminaries unite in agreement about who was to be held ultimately accountable. Jointly hosted by some of the larger subsidiaries to the major Gallente corporations, the Summit was attended by various political officials, lobbyists and even cultural icons._

She chewed her dinner slowly and kept reading. A quote stood out:

" _...We are undoubtedly dealing with entrenched, institutional corruption and incompetence, all of which has occurred under his watch. Our military leaders and their Chief of Command have failed us. We need to be sure now more than ever that this cannot happen again."_

"Entrenched, institutional corruption and incompetence," Sakaane muttered, reading the article over again. "Sounds about right to me."

Njal emerged from the kitchen. "Not hungry tonight?"

"Hmm? Oh." She looked down at her barely-touched meal. "It isn't that. Just…distracted."

He gazed intently at her, nodding. "You have been quiet your last few visits. May I ask...?"

She turned the datapad to him. "This, to start with. There have been other things. I can't talk about most of it."

Njal glanced at the article. "I read this earlier. What are your thoughts, then?"

She picked up a fork and stabbed halfheartedly at her food. "I may have made a mistake signing up with the navy. Everything just seems a mess, and nothing is working out quite the way I'd planned."

"Oh? And what does your young man think?"

Sakaane smirked and stabbed her food again. "He's no fan of the navy."

Njal leaned on the bar and gently tugged her plate away. "Let me warm this up."

"Thanks."

The datapad's display glowed faintly in the bar's subdued lighting. She stared at it, turning things over in her mind, until Njal returned with her meal.

"If you aren't happy, _kainta_ , choose another path. Don't let it choose you."

She smiled a bit. "You remind me of my father."

"I'm sure he would have wanted you to pursue whatever it is that fulfills you." Njal's brow furrowed slightly. "I remember why you became a capsuleer. You had a specific goal in mind back then. How much closer are you now to achieving it?"

Sakaane dropped her gaze. "Not very. You never approved of the reason I chose this."

"That's true. But I understood it, and in any case it isn't for me to approve or disapprove." He wiped the bar. "Besides, if you hadn't made that choice then we wouldn't have had so many wonderful dinners together."

She grinned and held her glass up to him. "I wouldn't trade those for anything. You've been a great friend to me, Njal."

He reached across the bar and cupped her cheek in his weathered palm. "And you. You remind me of home, way out here in the dark." He patted her cheek gently before withdrawing his hand. "Don't be afraid of change. If your heart wants it, take a turn onto a new path, and pursue your goals." He glanced to the door of _Deck 17_ where a group of pilots had just entered. "You'll have to excuse me now though. Duty calls. Eat your supper."

ǂ

Later, after hours of tossing restlessly in her bunk, Sakaane shoved the blankets aside and got up, fumbling in the dark for her pod suit.

"Whrr ya goin?" someone mumbled. "Serg'll...mad..."

"Sshh," Sakaane soothed, turning to rest a gentle hand on her squadmate's shoulder. "Go back to sleep."

The deck was cold on her bare feet. She carefully made her way out of the dark room to the dimly-lit catwalk leading to the hangar where her capsule was berthed. A moment later she'd undocked, set her course, and initiated warp.

ǂ

 **Essence Region – Crux Constellation – Luminaire System**

The seventh planet, Caldari Prime, grew from a small blue-grey marble to a vast curving horizon. Sakaane panned her camera drones around, taking her time. The planet appeared quiet and peaceful but she shivered, causing her capsule to shimmy in place. Ages ago, Luminaire VII had not been properly terraformed: it remained a frigid, inhospitable place with fragile ecosystems and little natural beauty, nothing at all like her home of Intaki Prime. How many of her people were trapped on the surface below? Rumors said conditions down there were poor: martial law, infrastructure ruined, hostilities running rampant.

 _This is where the war started. The Caldari were forced to leave their homeworld behind. But that was a long time ago._

In the distance she could just make out the dark smudge that was the Leviathan-class titan parked near the new Caldari outpost. _How is this any different?_ she wondered. _War again. Tibus Heth, now the ultimate symbol of Caldari patriotism, invaded Federation space to reclaim this rock for his people. How many on both sides died this time? All of Luminaire has been a battlefield; ship graveyards abound..._

She considered. Maybe turnabout was fair play. After all, the Federation Navy had bombed Caldari Prime from orbit after the Templis Dragonaurs destroyed Nouvelle Rouvenor in the first Gallente-Caldari war. Even though Admiral Tovil-Toba's _Kairiola_ had inflicted severe damage when it slammed into the surface of Gallente Prime back then, the Caldari obviously felt they hadn't had their due. The titan now in orbit had standing orders to bombard the segregated Gallente districts on Caldari Prime, as well as all of Gallente Prime itself,if the Gallente tried to retaliate.

 _Gallente Prime is their cultural capital, their most revered planet. The Gallente are faced with the possibility of losing their world. Do they feel now how the Caldari felt then?_

The Caldari would surely say there were too many _troublemakers_ on Caldari Prime right now and would make the troublemakers disappear. Abductions, torture, death in the streets late at night, while she imagined children's innocent eyes looking on.

 _Disastrous military blunders. Entrenched, institutional corruption and incompetence. And all the while, this goes on._

 _I am not Gallente. I am Intaki. I didn't choose this path to win this fight for them. It is theirs to resolve, if ever they can._

A comm channel opened at her will. A moment later she heard a warm voice in her head.

" _Hey, Sak. You're up late."_

"Devan..."

" _What's up?"_

"I'm in Luminaire, in orbit of Caldari Prime in my capsule."

" _In your pod? Isn't that a bit... Wait, why are you there?"_

She was quiet for a long time. Finally she said, "You told me you left the navy. You didn't desert, did you. They just...let you leave?"

" _Yeah. Some CONCORD thing that allows capsuleers to resign without penalty."_ When the silence stretched again, he prompted, _"Hon? Why do you ask?"_

She sighed, as much as she was able to from inside the pod. "I can't do this anymore. This path isn't right for me."

His tone was quiet. _"I spoke to Nailo a long time ago. There's a place for you here, if you want it."_


	6. First Meeting (Reprise)

**First Meeting (Reprise)**

 **3 September YC110  
Bereye III – Moon 1 – Roden Shipyards Factory**

 _Happy Face of Death_ docked quietly, a speck of armor and guns amidst numerous other ships moving about their own business. Inside the capsule, Sakaane waited patiently for the tug to tow her ship into a bay.

Relief and guilt struggled for dominance within her and as she dwelled upon each it seemed she spun in circles. Relief for being out of the navy and moving on to what she hoped were better horizons, which led to guilt for breaking her commitment to the squad even though she'd watched other pilots come and go the same way...leading back to the same relief for having made the decision she knew was right for her...and on and on.

She noticed her ship sitting idle in an access way between hangars and panned the camera drones around, focusing on the tug just ahead. "What's the holdup?"

" _Sorry, ma'am,"_ came the speedy reply. _"We've received a request to berth you in Bay 173 but there is a slight delay due to some...equipment...that requires moving. Please accept our apologies for the inconvenience."_

"Fine, thank you." She dismissed the channel and returned to her brooding.

Finally, her Vexor was delivered to the designated bay and the capsule extracted. Moments later, as she picked herself up off the deck and wiped containment fluid from her face, a figure appeared at the top of the gantry and hurried down to meet her.

"Devan! Wait, I haven't showered yet, I'm still covered in—"

He swept her up into a hug that lifted her off the deck and swung her bare feet around in a wide arc while her mouth was smothered in his kisses. "You're here!" he said after and set her back down.

She laughed. "Devan, your clothes!" A giant wet splotch marred the front of his body.

He grinned. "You can help me get out of these in a minute. I have something for you first." He retrieved his datapad from a pocket, tapped in a command, then slipped the device away. Turning her around and covering her eyes with his hands, he said, "You almost ruined the surprise. It was delivered just before you docked and I had to get it in first. Walk forward."

"Oh? What mischief are you up to?"

"You'll see. Turn right now. A few more steps. Okay, turn this way. Stop. Just a minute now, almost ready."

All fell silent, save for the sound of dockbots doing something out in the hangar. Then Devan took his hands away.

"Oh!"

His arms slipped around her and he rested his chin on her shoulder. "Surprise."

Ahead of her, where her Vexor had been, now floated a different, much bigger, ship, long along the y-axis and shining blue and gunmetal grey in the hangar lights.

"A Myrmidon," Sakaane said excitedly. "Thank you! But what is it for?"

She felt him briefly plug something into one of the sockets in her upper back, exposed by the wet pod suit she still wore. A moment later her wetware registered a request to flash in a new skillbook for compilation, which she authorized.

"Do I need a reason?" he said, but when she turned to look at him his expression was serious. "It's a feel-good gift. New ship for a new direction in life. Pretty sure I know what you're dealing with right now, because I went through it when I left the navy years ago." He cupped both of her cheeks with his palms. "It will all work out for the best, hon. I promise." He leaned forward and their lips met again.

"Thank you," she murmured between kisses, and pulled at his shirt. "Now, let's get you out of these wet clothes."

ǂ

"The corp is eager to meet you," he said later. "We're still a small operation, so having another body on hand to contribute will go a long way. Some of our stuff is still down in Ghesis and the guys are sort of stretched all over trying to get it all moved up here but things are coming together. Plus I've been able to get set up with a couple of decent agents in the area so there's always work on offer."

They walked down a long corridor together, heading from the capsuleer quarters district to the commercial district where Golden Phoenix Inc. maintained an office.

"Headquarters is officially located here now, though we're still maintaining the old location in Ghesis until it's cleared out. In June Nailo and I opened a few other offices in Caldari and Minmatar space to see if we can grow the corp's ranks some more. Interested?"

"In what, recruitment? I haven't done anything like that before, but sure." She mused for a while. "What about the war, how does that impact operations?"

Devan shrugged. "It doesn't, really. We're not about to tell our employees who to support. Honestly, we're too small right now to get noticed either way. Essentially we just go about our business. Speaking of that, you should know the corp will automatically take ten percent of all ISK you earn from here on out. It's appreciated though if you donate a portion of any recovered salvage and other materials you might happen across—ship modules you might not otherwise use for yourself, for example. Helps save us costs if we have a free pool to pull from."

She nodded. "Sounds fine."

They entered the TGPI office through a door etched with an image of a golden phoenix rising in front of crossed swords. Devan led the way past an empty reception desk to the back area and a series of private rooms.

"Most of these are for storage right now, but we can easily set up to host meetings, conduct interviews, and so on," Devan explained as he gave her a quick tour. "We also have a secure hangar. You'll only have access to part of it to start." He smiled apologetically.

"I know, security. It's your job, after all."

"Yeah. Right, so... The guys should be in here I think." He stepped through a door into an employee lounge and held it open for her to follow.

Sakaane looked from face to face. In the far corner, standing with his arms crossed and staring out a porthole, was Eric Nevera, Devan's long-time associate. She'd never actually been properly introduced to him but nevertheless they'd come to know each other in passing. He glanced at the door as Sakaane came in, looked her over from head to toe, then returned his sullen attention back to the view outside the station.

The rest of the handful of faces staring back at her were unfamiliar...and all of them were Caldari.

She didn't realize she was reaching for the gun holstered at her hip until she felt Devan's hand gently steer her arm away. In the same smooth motion he led her forward, presenting her first to a short, stocky man with thinning hair.

"Sakaane," Devan said, "this is Nailo Zook, our CEO."

Nailo frowned at her, his eyes on her weapon before they met her gaze. But all he said was, "Hello."

Before she could reply, Devan moved on to a tanned-skin man with brown hair and a scarred face. The man turned his blind eyes forward but gave no hint of actually being restricted by a lack of sight. "This is Aboddon. He heads our R&D efforts."

"Abby for short," Aboddon said.

"Over here we have Darwin, and of course you know Eric already."

She met the eyes everyone in the room and inclined her head slightly. " _Namas tayam_."

"Welcome to the corp," Nailo replied gruffly.

She smiled politely. "Thank you." Then she turned to Devan, asking, "Could I have a word with you, please?" and promptly left the room.

He followed her into an office across the hall. She closed the door behind him and then leaned against it, as if afraid someone might barge in.

"What the hell, Devan? Why didn't you tell me?"

"What?"

She stepped forward and hissed, "That you work for a bunch of _squids!_ "

"Because I knew you would react this way. We also have a Minmatar guy on staff, you know. He's probably out in the hangar, working on his ship again." He sighed gently and clasped her shoulders. "Nailo, Abby, the others...they don't live in the State anymore, haven't for years."

Sakaane made a strangled sound in her throat. "But they haven't been living in the Federation all that long either," she protested. "Where did you say the corp moved from? Ghesis? That's in Amarr space. The State's biggest ally! How convenient to move into Federation territory right when the war started. How do you know they aren't spies? What were you thinking? I can't work with these people! Eric alone is bad enough, but a whole slew of them? They're—"

"The enemy?" Devan frowned but didn't raise his voice. "That's the navy talking. Listen, Sak, I've been with TGPI for almost two years. I'll thank you to remember these guys aren't war targets—they're my friends." He stroked his hands over her upper arms. "I know what the navy taught you. They taught me much the same. And I'll grant that that kind of conditioning takes time to shake off. But do me a favor? Don't judge them before you actually get to know them?" He tried to smile. "Not all Caldari are like the ones you've fought. They aren't all madmen like Tibus Heth. I mean, I know Eric can kind of be a stick in the mud sometimes, but he's hauled my ass out of the fire more than once. Nailo helped me get financially independent after I left the navy. Give it a chance? Don't forget, it was Nailo who agreed to hire you on, too."

She tried to maintain her hard and unimpressed expression, but Devan's imploring face combined with the sudden unbidden mental image of Eric, his body stiff like a rod and jammed into a field of muck, made her snort a giggle that broke the tension.

"I'm sorry."

He nodded in acceptance. "I should probably also mention there's a Raven in my personal hangar."

"Ugh, Devan..." But she smiled a little to show she wasn't entirely serious. Then a thought occurred to her. "Where are Ven and Gabe?"

"Oh, you didn't know? They only stayed about a month. They wanted to join the Federal Defense Union when the war heated up but like I said...we're staying neutral." Devan grimaced. "We've had some trouble retaining newer people since then."

"Hmm. Somehow I'm not surprised they left. Not about Gabe, anyway, though Ven didn't really strike me as the type to want to go to war. But thus the question earlier about recruitment."

"Right."

She laid her head against his chest and closed her eyes. "All right. I promise I won't shoot them, your coworkers. My new coworkers. Yet."

"Sak."

"I promise. Really." She blew out a breath, willing the emotional stress of the last few days to pass, but it didn't. "As you said, it'll take time. We'll see how it goes."


	7. Mourning Star

**Mourning Star**

 **7 December YC110  
Everyshore Region – Osnins Constellation – Halle System  
Deadspace**

The last of the Serpentis ships exploded. Sakaane smiled a smile of satisfaction and set _Ebony Cascade_ to intercept the nearest wreck while simultaneously alerting her crew to prepare to loot any viable cargo, including an item her agent wanted. She would return later in her Catalyst, _Quicker Picker Upper_ , to retrieve the rest of the loot and salvage the wrecks for anything else of worth.

The wreck grew in her view as the Myrmidon approached and her camera drones drew near. She focused on it, sending the drones to circle around so she could see the sparking, twisted metal from all sides. How many pirate vessels had she reduced to this slag? She'd lost count. It felt great.

Her ship came in range and coasted to a stop. While waiting idly for the cargo to be transferred aboard and for lack of anything else to do, Sakaane brought up her ship's directional scanner and fiddled with the settings. She didn't really expect to find anything else but junk and debris out here in the middle of nowhere—after all, that was why pirate factions like the Serpentis chose to live in these dead areas—but sometimes the scanner would pick up an occasional amusing tidbit of something, and it was better than passing the time simply floating in her capsule doing nothing.

An intermittent blip appeared on the scanner.

Her crew signaled up. _"It's not in this one."_

"Hm?" Sakaane was distracted now, trying to lock down the signal. It was somewhere nearby. "Right. Moving on." She set _Ebony Cascade_ to approach the next nearest wreck and turned back to the scanner. The reading remained scrambled, but it looked like a ship. Maybe. She let go of the previous wreck and panned her camera drones around local space, looking for anything that might hint as to the source of the reading.

 _Wait, what's that?_ She swung the drones back around.

Off in the distance, just barely discernible against the black of space, a smattering of asteroids blotted out the stars. She zoomed in, wondering what it was about them that had caught her attention, but they just seemed to be asteroids like any other. Disappointed, she returned to fiddling with the scanner.

"— _successfully retrieved,"_ someone was saying.

Just then, with her drones still zoomed on the distant asteroids, Sakaane caught a small flash of light. It was only noticeable for how it briefly illuminated the protruding edge of one of the slowly spinning rocks.

 _Aha_.

The blip on the directional scanner refused to be pinned down, but near as she could tell, the signal was coming from that same direction.

"Crew, to your stations," she commanded, changing course and engaging the ship's afterburner. "Be on alert. We're taking a little side trip."

ǂ

 **Bereye III – Moon 1 – Roden Shipyards Factory  
Golden Phoenix Inc. Office**

Devan sat at his desk and rifled through reports. The office was quiet today; everyone was either out on assignment or taking care of tasks away from the station. _Perfect opportunity to get things done._

He'd just filed away one set and was starting in on a new group when his wetware alerted him to an incoming comms request from Sakaane.

"How are things going out there?" he asked while reading through the next report. "The Serps giving you any trouble?"

" _Easy pickings,"_ Sakaane replied. _"But that's not why I called. Can you come meet me out here? In your pod?"_

He set the report aside and looked up, staring into middle distance even though he couldn't actually see her. "My pod? What for?"

Her excitement was tangible even over the link. _"I found something out here. You'll never guess. But you'll have to help me get it home. Please?"_ There was a pause. _"Devan, it's beautiful. Terrible, but beautiful."_

"O...kay. You aren't going to tell me what it is, are you?" Without waiting for her to answer, he added, "Give me a few minutes to round up Eric. I'm not flying into deadspace alone in just my capsule."

" _Roger that. Thanks."_

Devan flipped channels and tried to message Eric but the call went unanswered. After another unsuccessful attempt, he shut off the console and locked down the office, then made his way to Eric's quarters.

There was no immediate answer at the door, so he rang again while checking the station roster to verify Eric was still logged as docked. He was, and there was nowhere else Eric was likely to be.

Finally, Devan heard movement from inside the quarters and, gradually, Eric's voice grew louder.

"—work hard around here, can't a man get any sleep? You'd think the place would go to hell without me." The door slid open to reveal Eric's scowling face. " _What._ Oh. Devan."

Devan's eyebrows had shot up. His dark-haired acquaintance was disheveled and unshaven. "Sorry to bother you. Were you in bed? You know it's two in the afternoon, right? Are you feeling all right?"

Eric scrubbed a hand over his face. "I'm fine. What do you need?"

"Armed escort out to Sak's location in Halle. I'll be going in my capsule."

Eric harrumphed. "What's that woman gotten herself into now?" Then, seeing Devan's expression, he raised his hands in surrender. "All right, all right. Give me ten." He shut the door.

"Sak," Devan said, reactivating the channel she was waiting in. "Can you hang tight for a bit without us? It'll just be a few minutes before we can leave..."

" _Why? What's Eric gotten himself into now?"_

ǂ

 **Everyshore Region – Osnins Constellation – Halle System  
Deadspace**

It didn't really matter; she wasn't going anywhere. Sakaane set the channel on standby and returned her attention to the view outside her ship. Her overview was clear; it would be some time before any Serpentis entered the area again.

The asteroids had turned out to be clustered together in a ragged spherical formation that didn't look altogether natural. During the long approach, the light from within the cluster had grown more distinctive until she could discern the flickering shadows it cast on the surface of the slowly spinning rocks, although its source remained hidden. Wherever it came from was at the center of the group.

Finally, the Myrm had entered the field, its tall, slim hull slipping easily through the gaps between the asteroids. It was then she'd discovered the cause of the blip on her scanner and the source of the light.

The hull before her was burning, ravaged from nearly end to end with flames and the occasional brilliant white of an energy discharge. The ship was sleek like an arrow and had once been shades of gold, though now its finish was tarnished by black carbon scoring and hull breaches. Interior lights were out on all decks save a few where they flickered with less than half-hearted effort. The ship had listed to one side and continued to roll over while she watched.

Studying it while waiting for Devan and Eric, Sakaane decided the captain of the vessel must have originally hidden inside the cluster of asteroids, possibly hoping to go undetected while observing the Serpentis outpost she had just so eagerly destroyed. But the hiding place had become a trap: at some point prior to her arrival, the pirates had discovered the warship. Unable to quickly maneuver out of the asteroids, this ship had fallen victim to smaller, more agile craft and then been left to burn in its current state.

The ship's pod bay was empty; the pilot had apparently abandoned it to make a run for his or her life.

" _We're in system,"_ came Devan's voice. _"Where are you?"_

She linked the coordinates of the acceleration gate provided to her by the agent after the trio had ganged up. "About three hundred clicks from the warp-in point."

" _Roger. We'll be there momentarily. All clear?"_

"All clear."

A short while later two purple signatures appeared on her overview: Devan in his capsule and Eric in a Drake. Together they aligned to her position; Devan's pod zipped quickly ahead while Eric crawled slowly along behind. Not long after, the capsule entered the asteroid field.

"Won't you join us, Eric?" Sakaane teased, watching his distant ship through a gap in the asteroids. It finally grew from a grey smudge to a slightly more distinguishable grey blob. After a moment's pause she added, "I can hear you frowning."

She heard a muttered reply that sounded like, _"I can still shoot you from here."_

" _All right,"_ Devan interjected. _"What did you find?"_ His pod maneuvered easily between the asteroids. Then he saw it. _"Oh! And it's intact? Nice find!"_

"Yes. Well, mostly. You can fly it though, yes?"

" _Yes. It's in pretty rough shape though. Suppose it blows up on the way with me in it?"_

"I don't think it will. Structural integrity is still about fifteen percent." She heard Devan's strangled sound of disapproval, and laughed lightly. "I've flown worse. The frigate I purchased years ago from that scrap yard in Agoze, the Griffin? I think it had only about half that."

Eric was smug. _"A testament to Caldari workmanship."_

Sakaane snorted. "I guess. It did spontaneously burst into flames while I was still flying it."

Meanwhile, Devan had set his pod to rendezvous with the wrecked hull. Sakaane watched as the roll slowly ended and the ship eventually righted itself once Devan took control.

" _Ugh. It's a mess in here, Sak. Most of the systems are trashed. It'll be slow going but I think there's enough juice left to get to the local Federal Intel station."_ He was silent for a long time. _"The crew is dead. What the hell happened in here? They…don't all look like they were killed as a result of the battle. Are you sure you want this ship? Wouldn't you prefer a new one that isn't soaked with blood on the inside?"_

"Slaves, right?" Sakaane asked grimly. "Survivors probably executed to ensure no chance of freedom before the pilot abandoned ship. Sickening. But those poor people deserve better than to be entombed forever in the void."

" _All right. I think I can squeeze out through the gap ahead. I'll need a good long run to get up to warp speed though."_

The Armageddon lurched forward, the engine stream from the back belching smoke and debris. Another energy discharge lit up the area so brightly it made Sakaane squint reflexively even though the camera drones fed the visual directly to her brain. These bursts of light radiated out and lit the surrounding space more brightly than Halle's distant sun.

 _Mourning Star_ , she thought to herself as she watched the battleship limp along, and set her Myrmidon to follow behind.


	8. Confrontation

**Confrontation**

 **5 March YC112  
Bereye III – Moon 1 – Roden Shipyards Factory  
Golden Phoenix Inc. Office**

Sakaane sat at her desk, staring at a datapad. The display swam before her, prompting her to drop the device with a sigh so she could massage her temples and forehead. The act did nothing to ease the ache behind her eyes; she leaned forward instead, resting her elbows on the desk and leaving her head in her hands.

It had been a hard twelve months and Sakaane felt drained. A year had passed since the first Caldari occupation of Intaki and everything had gone downhill from there. She'd lost _Mourning Star_ and its crew to rogue slavers because of her own stupid, completely avoidable negligence: she'd been so worried about her homeworld that her mind wandered from the battle and she'd failed to activate any defenses. Some weeks later, reports began to surface of shortages in Intaki, and by June of YC111, the Caldari had swept through the rest of the Federation war zone, claiming it all for the State. Long conversations with Njal about these developments had ignited a desire to go back to Intaki and fight for independence…but still she found herself in hisec.

She opened her eyes. The datapad's display listed the current Golden Phoenix roster. Annoyingly, all but four of the names showed as inactive, including Nailo's, their CEO, and she sighed. More and more over the last year, Devan had been forced to step into his shoes and make decisions that shouldn't have been his to make. He'd stay up late working on reports and tasks which should have been solely the responsibility of the CEO and no one else. His own responsibilities and other obligations, including to her, had fallen more and more by the wayside, and she'd seen him less and less for all the time he spent holed up in the corp office. Nailo had been more or less unreachable and left no word as to when he'd resurface. The corporation had floundered without proper guidance, and there had been no one else with at least some authority to do anything about that but Devan.

Their relationship had degenerated to frequent arguments about Devan's role and what Nailo's absence was doing to TGPI and to their relationship. Sakaane had tried to help as much as she could, but Devan was stuck being a director doing a CEO's job without a CEO's roles or title. They could only hobble along and, for lack of a better term, fake it.

She flicked through the list of inactives. _How am I supposed to do my job as Director of Personnel when we have no CEO to properly greet new recruits? How are we supposed to explain to these people what the corp's direction is and why Devan makes all the decisions when he doesn't technically have the authorization to do so?_ Morale around the office had become brutally low. Sakaane had started pushing Devan to track Nailo down and ask him to transfer CEO status to him, even if only temporarily, so they could at least get something worthwhile done with TGPI, but Devan had been reluctant, arguing that Nailo was a friend first and he didn't feel it would be fair to imply Nailo was no longer worthy to be CEO.

 _How can Nailo remain worthy of a role he isn't fulfilling?_ Sakaane thought irritably. She and Devan would only go around in circles on that point. She appreciated his perspective, but they were stuck so long as they had no active CEO: wheels spinning and nothing productive getting done. So if he wouldn't ask for the CEO role, perhaps it was simply time to let TGPI die. Devan had liked that suggestion even less.

 _I'm not happy either,_ she thought, and not for the first time. As she tapped on the datapad, terminating those pilots who had been inactive for far longer than was properly decent, her thoughts went once more down a familiar path. _I want to go home. No. I_ need _to go home. I feel helpless out here, and things are spiraling out of control there. But I'm not sure what I would do when I got there or even if anything I could do would be of any help. I'm one person against such an enemy…and that, perhaps, is the only thing keeping me from leaving this very minute. That…and I think Devan wouldn't go with me. He is committed to keeping TGPI afloat. I would feel guilty for abandoning him._

That wasn't the only thing making her restless. The unexpected appearance of a very large amount of ISK in her wallet from a so-called Anonymous Benefactor that past fall was still unexplained. She didn't like the idea of potentially having someone show up one day to collect on that favor when she had no idea who that person might be. Devan usually shrugged and tried to explain it as a rare, but not totally unheard of, random act of kindness from some New Eden philanthropist, while Njal was similarly dismissive, telling her there were bigger issues to worry about.

 _Bigger issues…like corp activity reports._ She groaned and closed out of the datapad, shoving it away from her. Maybe things would improve in the next few days.

A soft knock made her look up. There, in her office doorway, was Kruznik Abel, the only remaining active evidence of her many attempts to recruit new pilots for TGPI. She smiled, set aside her discontent, and beckoned him in.

"Hey," he said in greeting, sitting in the seat she gestured to. "Sorry to bother you."

"It's no problem. What can I do for you?"

He made eyes at her datapad as if he knew what she'd been doing. "How goes things with the corp?"

"So-so," she said, leaning back. Then, looking at him, she decided to be frank. Kruznik had stayed on despite the corp's troubles and, she figured, had earned the right to know. "Devan finally sent Nailo a message about potentially dissolving the corp. He basically said he thinks since those of us who are active are working independently now anyway we should all look for another corp or alliance, either together or separately. I've made some inquiries in the community to see if I could get any recommendations."

Kruznik nodded slowly. "And any response from the head cheese?"

"Not yet. Devan only sent the mail this morning. So...we'll see. I'll keep you informed though."

"Thanks. I appreciate that."

ǂ

The next morning Sakaane woke alone. Devan had risen early, mumbling something about having to meet an agent somewhere, and left. She washed, checked for messages, then made her way to the TGPI offices, promising herself today they'd figure something out.

The lights in the office were already on, but when she flashed her ID to the security pad, the panel turned red and the door remained locked.

She tried again.

ACCESS DENIED.

"What the hell—?" She pounded on the door. "Hello? Who's in there?" Through the frosted glass panels on either side of the entrance she saw a shadow moving closer. Her hand groped instinctively at her waist for the holster that wasn't there. "Goddamn Nailo, not letting me pack a sidearm on corp premises," she muttered, and banged on the door again. "Hello?"

The lock clicked and the security panel flashed green. Sakaane stepped back. Slowly, the door opened.

"Nailo!"

He scowled, but then, other than for his wedding she wasn't sure she'd ever seen him not scowling. "Hello," was all he said.

"What's going on? The door wouldn't unlock for me."

He stepped aside to let her pass but said nothing, following her to her desk and watching while she bent over it and tried to access her files.

ACCESS DENIED.

A cold sensation prickled down Sakaane's neck around her implants. On a hunch, she tried to call up the corporation's hangar manifests.

ACCESS DENIED.

Slowly, she straightened and met Nailo's gaze. "Uh. Devan and I have some of our belongings in the corp hangar. I'd appreciate having access back."

His lips twisted. "You'll get it back, don't worry. What hangar and what stuff?"

 _Right. Because I can list off everything in there just off the top of my head._ "There's a container in the General hangar in Mies. There might be another one somewhere else but I'm not sure—Devan usually looks after it. I also know he has a few other things in some of the other hangars but I don't know what."

"So let me know and I will move it to either of your personal hangars."

"He's out on a job, and I don't believe the container in Mies is movable." Quickly, she accessed her private comms to get in touch with Devan, relaying the situation as soon as he answered.

Nailo and Sakaane stared at each other in silence. In her head, Devan fumed.

Then, finally answering her earlier question, Nailo said, "Devan sent me a message asking about joining a bigger corp. To do that you needed to have twenty-four hours to clear your roles."

Her eyes narrowed. "Kind of premature to revoke them, don't you think?"

"If you are thinking of leaving anyhow, what's the difference?"

"Devan sent the message to broach the topic so everyone could _talk_ about it and see what we wanted to do. It's not like we have anything lined up. Nobody is actually prepared to leave."

"I'm not kicking you out," Nailo countered. "All I am doing is opening the door."

She snorted. "I find that hard to believe since you went ahead and stripped the roles overnight without actually asking anyone for further details first! And now that you've done that and we have to 'ask nicely' for our stuff and give you an inventory when you're not around ninety-nine percent of the time anyway, it's going to be a pain."

"That's why I removed roles, as the thought process of 'this is mine and this is mine' and taking everything and leaving nothing for those who haven't been around...now, is that fair? Just because I haven't been around doesn't mean I haven't put stuff into the corp hangar or wallet."

Her jaw dropped. "Who said anything about taking everything? You think so little of your best friend that you believe he would rob you and the corp blind? That's _really_ classy." She tried to control her annoyance but it was quickly escalating to anger. "At least Devan did you the courtesy of trying to suggest something for the group. We could have just disappeared without saying anything, but I guess that didn't occur to you."

Nailo crossed his arms. "I guess that shows the trust you have in me. It occurred to me and I didn't assume that you already took the stuff. I didn't ask for anything back, did I? Did I assume that you stole anything?"

"I would have expected you to at least wait for an opportunity to talk to somebody before doing anything."

He spread his hands. "So, talk rather than accuse me of acting too fast."

"You just said the reason you stripped our roles was to prevent 'people'—us—from taking everything out of the hangars, which means _you_ don't trust _us_ to only move the things that are actually ours."

"I just froze all assets. That's it, so that newer people can't take anything." He sneered. "Sorry, lumped it all into one word."

The comm channel with Devan signaled for her attention. She stayed silent a moment to tend to it, then spoke aloud, her voice biting at each word. "Devan tells me the _entire_ contents of the Mies hangar is ours, including the logistics ships, and he would like you to restore his roles so we can get at those things."

Nailo shrugged. "Didn't realize that it would be such a big deal, but holy I guess I did the right thing from your reaction."

 _My reaction?_ He was acting like a spoiled brat and her blood boiled. How dare he walk in after months of neglecting his duty and act like the wounded party? Nevertheless she struggled to stay calm. "It's only a big deal because you didn't bother to actually respond to anybody and talk about what was going on first. It's not a good impression to come in to work and find one's access nerfed."

"I wasn't mailed about the corp drop in taxes nor talked to, anything, it was just done. So I did the same thing. So it's okay for someone else, just not me, right?"

 _Are you kidding me?_ "Devan made that decision and in the past you often said you trusted him to do things of that nature. You can take that up with him if it bothers you. But he did go to you first about doing something about the corp as a whole, but you didn't respond to that at all."

"He sent that yesterday. I got it today. Sorry, been busy, working sixteen-plus hours a day, but I don't complain about it. It just limits my ability to take care of things, go see holoreels, or talk with my wife."

She wanted to throttle him. Never mind that they had absolutely no evidence of Nailo doing any sort of work on behalf of the corporation in the last year—but he must have taken Sakaane for a complete fool if he expected her to believe he received Devan's message any later than yesterday morning—more or less immediately after it was delivered—to have completed the change in their access. _You already admitted you had to have twenty-four hours to drop our roles, you twat._ "We work too, you know. Nobody said you had to do something right away. You could have just responded to him and said 'let's talk about it' and waited."

"That's true," he mumbled.

She continued, speaking over him. "Working for the corp limits our abilities to do all those things too. Devan and I haven't had a day off together in months, and thanks to having no one else around this place we won't get another one again until who knows when. Oh well, hey. Life sucks!"

He drew himself up straight and raised his voice. "It's your reaction that only proves the lack of trust in me. Not to screw you personally, as I said you will get all of your stuff, don't worry. But that isn't good enough."

She grit her teeth and tried to keep in mind who she was talking to. "I'm just a little offended by your response to Devan's message. Yours was a knee-jerk reaction and I figured you would have stopped to give some more consideration first—"

"I agree with his reasons and think it is a great idea."

She just about lost her train of thought at that and had to shake her head to clear out the sudden burst of disbelief. _He thinks it's a great idea but he's locked us out anyway?_ "—and all I can say about your work schedule, whatever it is you've been doing, is that is what you picked for yourself, so if you don't like how it's working out, it's nobody's fault but yours and you should change what you're doing. Don't put that onto other people."

"I haven't."

"It's coming across like you're trying to."

He stabbed a finger at her. "You said, 'poor me, Devan and I haven't seen each other since whenever and blah blah' and that is my response. That is your and Devan's choice."

"You were already complaining about poor _you_ , you work over sixteen hours a day and don't get to talk to your wife. The reaction is that you're not the only one, so suck it up." Exasperated, she threw up her hands. "It really doesn't factor into the topic at hand!"

"So it was said just to tell me to fuck off? I get it, you're pissed and you are just trying to do, what, piss me off? Well, congrats, it isn't going to work."

"I'm not deliberately trying to piss you off. I just really hate it when people talk like they're the only ones in the world who work hard and struggle to spend their free time with their family and friends. The rest of the world works that way too. It's a lousy excuse."

Despite his assurances that she could not make him angry, his face started to turn purple. "Not an excuse—a statement. I haven't been around due to the work I've been doing. That is why I am not here ninety-nine percent of the time. No excuse, fact. And the free time I have I would rather be with my wife. Fact! Therefore I don't have the time to respond to Devan's message. Fact!"

"Oh, for god's sake."

"So where's the excuse?" Nailo shouted, practically jumping forward to thump both his hands onto her desk.

She couldn't help herself: she laughed at his scowling, darkened face. Though he leaned his short, stocky body forward almost threateningly, she didn't believe he'd actually strike her.

"The time you took to strip everybody's roles and then come down here from wherever you've been hiding was the time you could have taken to respond to Devan's mail. And, oh, I don't know, say something like, 'Should I strip the roles yet, or do people want more time to figure things out, or are there any ideas for what we could do instead?' yadda yadda. That's what I figured you would do. Devan expected much the same."

"Well it didn't happen that way as I was approached by a few people to do different things and I chose this way. Sorry if it ticked you off."

She raised an eyebrow. "I find it interesting that you had time to be approached by 'a few people' to do 'different things' but you had no time to reply to a mail or actually have a discussion." _And who could those people have possibly been? You are a ridiculous liar, Nailo._

He crossed his arms again and continued to stare her down. "All I did was freeze corp assets. Guess that was the wrong thing to do."

She raised her chin defiantly. "I guess I don't understand why you thought you had to when no one is around anyway. Of course, Devan and I have talked for months about what to do about the corp, since it's been just the two of us to keep it going! There's _one_ other person who's asked about TGPI's status, but otherwise the only other person who knew about the mail was you. The idea being that sweeping changes in corp status are generally things that get discussed between the two highest ranking people running it."

"What would change if I left the roles and we discussed it?"

She shrugged. "That would depend on the discussion, wouldn't it? Considering the topic has never been talked about before that I'm aware of, how am I to say? At least then there wouldn't be a feeling of having the carpet yanked out from under us for having just broached the subject."

"I have had this discussion before. That's why I know there is a twenty-four hour hold after roles are removed."

"For all I know you might have suggested transferring CEO status to someone else since you are so preoccupied with mysterious other things. Or maybe leave the corp the way it is but have us join an alliance. Or whatever. That's why it was _just a message_. When or _if_ each of us was ready to go we could have dropped roles ourselves. We didn't need you to do it for us. And nobody asked you to." She drew a breath in, slowly, trying to stop herself from trembling. "Actually stripping roles is like, five steps down the road. Or would have been."

He remained defiant. "So step one is what, then? Maybe we can get to step five quickly to avoid your harsh tongue."

She ignored that. "In my mind it would have been reading Devan's message and sending a reply like what I have mentioned before, about talking about it further."

"I did send a reply and explained my actions to which there hasn't been a response yet. And yes I know he is out on a job so he may not reply as he may not be able to get his mail. In fact I have sent four messages!"

She checked with Devan via their comm channel. Nailo's mails had all arrived within the last ten minutes. "He has them, which is all well and good but now it's like the cart after the horse. Better late than never I guess."

Nailo suddenly adopted a faraway look as if he were listening to someone else. Sakaane wondered if Devan had finally contacted him directly. "I haven't kicked anyone out and I won't," he said absently. "All I did was freeze assets, as I have said many times."

 _You stopped just short of giving us the boot._ She wondered if the only reason she hadn't found herself removed from TGPI completely was due to her arrival at the office interrupting Nailo in the middle of it. Right now, she wouldn't have been surprised if that was actually the case, but said, "I know you didn't kick us out, and thank you for that. I didn't expect you would do that either. It's just really surprising and not welcome to get up and find access to the corp is denied."

His vision refocused on her. "I gotta go, as the wife is bitching that it's Friday and I haven't done anything worthwhile yet." His lip curled. "But you don't care, so forget I said anything." He turned and started to walk away.

"Nice attitude," she called out, then quickly followed after him. "Do us a favor and please restore the roles before you go since it's anybody's guess when we'll see you again."

The office door slamming shut was his only reply.

ǂ

 **Later That Evening  
Capsuleer Residences**

The first words Devan said to Sakaane after the door to their quarters closed were, "Did he do it?"

"No."

He frowned and tossed down his jacket, heading for the comm panel. Not long after, Nailo's face appeared.

"Let's talk," Devan said.

 _"Sure, let's talk."_

"What's your side of why you did what you did?"

 _"All I did was freeze assets. That's all. Pretty simple."_

"Why?"

 _"So I have time to get my stuff out."_

Sakaane watched the tension bunching up in Devan's shoulders as he spoke. "Do you seriously think I was planning to rob you blind or something?"

 _"Nope."_

"Then explain to me why it makes any sense to do what you did."

 _"I didn't think you would be around."_

"Which makes a difference how, exactly? You still have yet to give me a solid reason why you froze the assets."

Nailo frowned. _"Had I had the time to do things without Sakaane asking questions for two hours I would have been done everything and you wouldn't have known anything. However that didn't happen."_

Across the room, on the sofa, Sakaane lowered her book to her lap, a finger between its pages so she wouldn't lose her place. _So he_ was _trying to sneak around and I caught him in the act!_

"That still doesn't make any sense," Devan was saying. "How you're going about this feels like some knee-jerk reaction."

 _"Only because you assumed I read your message first."_

"I wasn't going to let your assets, or anyone else's, get locked in unpaid corp hangars either. Our corp bills are like, what, two, maybe three mil all together? And if I was leaving I'd have shut down the most expensive and no longer going to be used offices, dropping that to one mil tops. You haven't been around so that's why I didn't approach you with the tax change... But it didn't make sense to keep taking ten percent of everyone's wallet if we're doing fuck-all with it and not having any luck recruiting."

 _"You say that now but I have no way of knowing that."_

"You could have fucking bothered to _ask!"_

Nailo snorted indignantly. _"Swearing gets you what?"_

"Screw you. I'm angry, and I'm damn well entitled to be. What you did shows me you have no trust in me or my decisions."

 _"Same here. I trust your decisions. I never said I didn't."_

"Excuse me? I approached you wanting to discuss alternatives because of the difficulties we've experienced to build up the corp. You're the one who flew off and locked everyone out of the hangars."

 _"You assumed, not me. I haven't been in space in a long time and was thinking of this for a while. Today was my first chance to do anything. Just bad timing for your message, and Sak flew off the handle."_

"Considering the timing, you have to admit how it looks. And if that's the case, I'll take what you've said at face value. Can't say I agree with how you did it, but fine."

 _"Yes. But I didn't read your message until Sak said something about it."_

Sakaane just about choked and had to restrain herself from jumping up to barge in on the call. _That lying son of a bitch!_

"Just for the record, I told Sak I'd sent you the message, so that's where she's coming from as well."

 _"It looks bad, yes. But in an hour you will be CEO and be able make your own choices."_

Devan blinked at Nailo's unexpected statement. He opened his mouth, then closed it again, reconsidering what he'd been about to say. "Fair enough. With that in mind, I'm sorry for going off on you."

 _"This would have been done long before you got home and before anyone really noticed. Just bad timing."_

"Yeah, well, you know that saying about assumptions, let alone Murphy's law."

 _"That's true."_

"Sorry for making your afternoon shitty. On the flipside, I think you can appreciate how it looked coming from our side of things."

 _"That's fine, but it caused more problems than it was worth and she won't leave it alone."_

"You could have saved a whole ton of headache if you'd given us warning instead of just doing. Anyway, I'm going to go. Hope you have a better night."

 _"Sure. The wife is pissed. It will be a great night."_

The call terminated. Devan exhaled a long breath.

Sakaane put the book away and went over to him, rubbing his shoulders briefly before slipping her arms around his middle and leaning her head against his back. "I'm sorry," she murmured. "I know that wasn't easy for you."

"No, it wasn't."

There were a lot of things she wanted to say just then, but all of them felt like they'd come out with an underlying tone of 'I told you so', which she knew he didn't need to hear. Instead she said, "He's making you CEO though. That's something."

He broke her embrace and headed for the cooler, grabbed a bottle of Quafe and downed about half in one go. "Yeah. I guess." Still angry, he glared at the bottle. "I don't think we'll see him again after this, regardless." He took another swig from the bottle and then set it down. "I'm going for a walk. I need to cool off."

"Can I come with you?"

Devan picked up his jacket. "I... No. Sorry. I just want to be alone for a bit."

"Oh. All right... I'll be here when you get back, then."

He left. Sakaane stared at the door for a while, then went back to the sofa and reopened her book.


End file.
